


Get Me Out

by Black_Ink_2003



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Alcohol, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Injury, Light Angst, Mystery, Physical Abuse, Protective Sam Winchester, Romance, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexist Language, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-05-15 18:37:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19301503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Ink_2003/pseuds/Black_Ink_2003
Summary: (Y/n) is stuck in an abusive relationship, that of which she believes she deserves to be in. When people start to go missing and are later found dead, the Winchester brothers show up. How can the boys not only solve the strange murders, but get (Y/n) out of a relationship she thinks she can't leave? How far will one Winchester go to prove to (Y/n) she is worth it?





	1. Chapter 1

The old wooden chair creaked as Jonathan sat down at our rickety dining room table. I placed a bowl in front of him, filled to the brim with the warm meal I had just prepared. He began plowing into it as I fixed myself a bowl and sat down. I lifted my spoon, shakily bringing it from the bowl to my mouth. The air was tense, the bruise on my arm throbbing. I was afraid to say anything, but also afraid not to.

  
“... How was work today, Jon?” I asked, my voice quiet and trembling.

  
Jonathan paused, set down his spoon, and lifted his head to look at me. “Fine,” he said. “What did you do today?” He halfheartedly asked, picking his spoon back up.

  
“... I cleaned the house a bit… washed our clothes, and made dinner,” I said, keeping my head down.

  
“Not very productive I see, lazy slob,” Jonathan grumbled. “Pass me the salt.”

  
I reached my hand out, picking us the glass salt shaker and hastily handing it to him. As I retracted my hand, my knuckles brushed against my glass of water, sending it over the edge of the table, shattering onto the floor. I paused, for only a moment, but it was enough time for fear to grip me tight and strap me into the ride.

  
I stood up, “I-I’m sor-sorry, Jon. I’ll get this-”

  
“Stop blabbering woman, and clean it up!” He yelled, slamming his flist on the wood rotting table.

  
I apologised again, tears brimming in my eyes. I grabbed a towel, picking up shards of glass and placing them in the towel. A few of the clear shards had pierced the palms of my hands. I cleaned up my mess in under what I guessed to be five minutes, returning to the table only to find Jon checking his phone with an empty bowl in front of him. I took the bowl from him, placing it in the sink to clean later. I then returned to my spot at the dining room table, and continued to eat my now cold meal.

  
Jon got up from his place in his chair, walked around the table, behind me, and sat himself down on the couch that was falling apart. I finished my food, setting the empty bowl in the sink. I walked over to the couch, passing by Jon who proceed to smack my behind as I made my way to the opposite end of the couch from where he was seated. I sat as close as I could to the armrest. We sat in silence, until Jon asked my to bring him a beer. I hastily rose from my previous position and strode to the fridge. I pulled out a beer for him, but as I entered the living room, I tripped over the corner of the rug that was laid out of the floor. The bottle slipped from my hands, the bottom half broken off from the top. I caught my fall with my hands, but looked up only to find Jonathan's face contorted into one of anger.

  
“What the fuck, woman!” He yelled. “I work all day to bring money into this household, and come home expecting a loving wife to be waiting at the door, but instead I’m stuck with you! A clumsy, lazy, meek, bitch! God, why can’t you do anything right?”

  
Glass shards dug into the palms of my hands, “I-I’m so-sorry, I-”

  
Knock knock knock

 

“Fucking…” Jon whispered, as he walked toward the door. As he opened it, he came face to face with none other than two men in suits.

  
“Hello sir, I’m FBI agent Dickerson,” The agent pointed to the tall man next to him, “This is FBI agent Ross. We need access into your house. Earlier today there was a murderer who broke out of a local prison, and we have reason to believe that he is hiding in this neighborhood.”

  
Jon scoffed, “And what the hell makes you think he’s hiding here? Unless you have a warrant, you ain’t putting a toe in this place.”

  
I scurried to collect the glass shards in my hands, and dispose of them.

  
“Sir, unless you want to make this more difficult than it needs to be, I advise you to let us take a look around you home. I can assure you,” Dickerson said, “We will be out of your hair in no time.”

  
I took a towel to the spilled beer, soaking it up in the white cloth and then taking the rag to the sink.

  
Jonathan paused, let out a load sigh, and proceed to say, “Look, you can snoop through my house, but you ain’t gonna find nothin’.”

  
I twisted the white cloth over the sink, releasing the beer. I then turned on the faucet and rinsed out the towel, watching as a few drops of blood fell from my hands.  
Jon opened the front door wider and let them FBI agents into the house.

  
I turned off the faucet and run the towel of water. I then hung the rag over the faucet neck, leaving it to dry.

  
Dickerson and Ross entered the house, looking around for whatever it was they were looking for.

  
I tiptoed to the living room to greet them, as to not appear rude, yet also keep my distance for fear of Jon.

  
“Hi,” I meekly greeted the agents. They both looked at me, did a little head nod and smiled.

  
They both said hello, and introduced themselves to me.

  
“Ma’am, may I ask you some questions?” the tall agent, with shoulder length, shaggy hair, asked.

  
“Yes, whatever you need to know,” I replied. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jon glaring at me from behind the agents.

  
“Do you know Ms.Hobbs? She lived down the street. Older lady, very short, and frequented the local hair salon?” Ross asked.

  
“Yes, she is very sweet. Has two cats and no children.”

  
“Ah, well, you see she was found dead yesterday. Do you happen to know of any enemies she might of had? Or any strange occurrences or behaviors she might of exhibited before she passed?”

  
“Oh wow, I can’t believe she’s passed… umm, as far as enemies go,” I glanced at Jon, just long enough for Ross to glance where I was looking and catch on.” I can’t think of any. But strange occurances? What kind?”

  
“Strange things, that you might of thought you were immagining. Strange smells, people, substances. Anything really.”

  
“Nothing I can think of. As far as behaviors go. She was very sweet, and lived alone… but, the other night I caught her standing under the street light, just staring at nothing. Then she walked back inside her house, but no lights ever turned on.”

  
Ross nodded, a look of contemplation on his face as he looked to the floor. “Well, thank you for your help,” He started to look back op at me but his eyes caught something. He quickly grabbed my wrist and held up my arm, showcasing the fingerprint bruises on my arm. “Where did you get these?”

  
“I-I, uh-”

  
“She’s clumsy, and just fell. Does it all the time, agent.” Jon chimed in, quickly dismissing the discolored skin.

  
“Hey, can I speak to you outside?” agent Dickerson asked Jon. Jon went with him outside, grumbling along the way.

  
Ross looked back to me and asked, “How did you really get those bruises?”

  
I hesitated, pulling my arm back to my side and whispered, “... I, uh… sometimes Jon likes to… um… I can get really clumsy, or say stupid things, or just behave not how I should, and… He uh.. He-”

  
“He does this to you,” agent Ross finished.

  
I nodded my head, silently praying nothing bad would come of my telling.

  
Ross lifted his hand to him mouth, breathing a sigh into it before running it through his hair. He then asked, “Do you want me to do something about it?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! This chapter is more of a transition chapter than anything else. More exciting events will happen in the next chapter.

I quickly looked up at him, panic written on my face. “Please don’t,” I said, “The last thing I need is to deal with that.”

Agent Ross gave me a look, the kind of look that was both confused and frustrated. “I can’t do anything for you unless you ask me to.”

“I don’t want you to do anything. I don’t need your help. I know how to handle my own life,” I spat. Yes, Jon hurt me and wasn’t always the kindest person. However, I dug my grave and now I must lie in it. I believed I deserved nothing more than the life I was given.

“Ok, well… if you see anything strange of think of anything else in regards to Ms.Hobbs, please call,” agent Ross handed me a business card with a number on it. “And don’t think twice about calling if something happens or you change your mind.”

I pocketed the card, and planned to hide it from Jon later. “Thank you, Agent Ross.”

Ross then walked outside, leaving me to ponder his offer.

 

Not too long later, Jon walked back in, a deep scowl on his face. He was muttering profanities about how people need to mind their own business and he had nothing to do with anything. As soon as he laid eyes on me his frustration only increased. 

“What do you think you’re doing? Just standing around, not doing anything!” Jon exclaimed.

“I-I was just-”

“I don’t give a damn, woman! Go find something productive to do!” 

Jon stormed up the houses rickety stairs, huffing and puffing as he did. 

I then attempted to busy myself, trying hard not to think about that agents offer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morning came, and Jonathan was already gone. Where to, I had no idea. Morning light was yet to appear, as the time was somewhere around four o’clock. 

I stood up from my previous spot on the bed, where I then proceeded to shower and get dressed for the day. As I made my way down to the kitchen, there was a strange movement that caught my attention in the window. 

Doug, the only neighborhood school kid, was slowly sauntering to the streetlamp across the road. His movements were sluggish, and he was dressed in his night clothes. I watched Doug stop under the streetlamp, turn toward our residents and just stare through the kitchen window with dead eyes. Dull and lifeless was the only words I could use to describe his eyes, and stance, and overall behavior. He just stood there, staring at what felt like right at me for a solic couple of minutes. When he was finished with his ogling, he turned himself around, and slowly moved back to his home where he lived with his mom.

I just stood there and watched him, both creeped out and confused by his actions. Then it dawned on me, Ms.Hobbs did the same thing just before she was found dead. But wait, that is crazy, how can the strange behavior that just happened lead to someone’s death? Was I just seeing things? Was I going crazy? I didn’t even know I was gripping that agents card in my hand from its previous place in my pocket till just then. Last night I just really felt like holding on to it after what that agent said. However, I decided not to call the agent, and hoped nothing would come of it. After all, Doug is a little strange sometimes, maybe he just wanted to freak some neighbors out. 

Later in the day, after having vacuumed the entire house twice and washed all the laundry, I decided there was not enough food items in the fridge to make a meal out of. I changed into casually nice clothes, put on some shoes, and left the house. There was a farmers market about a mile from the neighborhood, and I knew I could make it there and back within about two hours. 

Not too far into my walk did I stumble upon a black, Chevy Impala speeding past me. 

“Stupid, crazy, fast drivers,” I muttered under my breath. 

Little did I know they were racing to the scene I was about to stumble upon up ahead. 

Before I could comprehend what I was seeing, flashes of red, white, and blue filled my vision. Yellow tape was everywhere and I saw a large, white bag on the concrete driveway of Doug’s house. 

“Oh shit,” I exclaimed, a sick feeling sinking into my stomach.

I approached Doug’s home, surrounded by police and various other neighbors. Then the two agents from last night caught my eye. They were talking to one of the officers, asking her questions and looking around the property. Then Agent Ross, the one with the shaggy long hair and freakishly tall height, spotted me. He walked over to me, trying to figure out what to say.

“Is Doug… is he?” I asked, not able to even utter my suspicions.

Agent Ross shook his head and said,” I’m afraid so. His mother couldn't find him early this morning for about two hours. Police then found him deceased in his room after having already done a search of the house.”

“Oh my god… oh my god… he’s just a kid!” I cried, trying to keep my eyes from watering. 

I had known Doug sense he was a baby. He grew up here in this neighborhood, and he was such a sweet kid. He was so smart and would never hurt a fly. I saw him just this morning, and now he’s gone. Just like that… gone. He’s only a baby. Barley on this Earth for ten years and not even… not even… oh god… 

“Can I speak to you alone?” Agent Ross asked, his voice quiet as he looked around.

I whispered a yes, and Ross walked me away from the prying eyes of others and around the side of that same Chevy Impala. 

“I know this isn’t the right time for this. But we only have so much time to stop these deaths. (Y/n), do you remember any weird or anything that you think might help?”

“... Remember the strange behavior I told you regarding Ms.Hobbs?”

Agent Ross nodded his head.

“Well… I saw Doug doing the same thing this morning.”

“Shit,” Agent Ross muttered. 

“That’s bad right? Damn it! I knew I should have called you!”

“Don’t worry about it. What’s done is done…”

“... are you gonna do something?”

“Yeah, and I’m gonna need your help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my story! More chapters are on their way. Feedback is appreciated, as are requests. Thank you!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry that this chapter isn't as good as I wanted it to be. I am currently writing a really long Klance fanfic with the first chapter coming out tomorrow. The next chapter for this story will have more in it, as this one was more of a transition chapter. However, thank you very much for choosing to read this. I hope you enjoy!

Jonathan was not going to like this one bit. If he found out, there would be a series of things he would do. The first is that his face would turn red, and then he’d start yelling at me. He might throw in a few punches or grab my neck. Either way, it would all end in me crying and being told I was pathetic… witch wasn’t wrong. Ugh! What was I thinking? Helping some cute agent solve some deaths that for some reason have to do with that stupid street lamp across the street. This was crazy, how can a street lamp cause a death? Well… I guess in a lot of ways really. Like if the streetlamp were to fall on you, or electrocute you, but none of that was involved in any of the deaths. More so the location. This was all so confusing.

“Hey, are you okay?” Agent Ross asked, sitting across from me at the diner.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine… just thinking a bit,” I said.

Agent Ross smiled, “Don’t think too hard now.”

We both sat together in a booth at a local diner. Ross had walked me here, as it wasn’t too far from my original destination. He wanted to talk about what he needed me to do, but first was waiting on his partner to meet us here as well. So as of that moment, we sat in an awkwardly content silence, eating out of a large basket of fries that Ross ordered for us to share.

“So umm, if you don’t mind me asking. Exactly how long have you been with Jonathan?” Ross asked.

“... About a year and six months…” I said, proceeding to stuff my mouth with a fry.

“And you… has he always treated you like that?”

“He was very nice to me when I first met him, if that is what you mean.”

“So when did he start… start hurting you?”

“When did you get so into other people's business?” I snapped, my eyes downcast.

“I’m sorry to intrude I was just-”

“Intruding,” I stated.

Suddenly, I heard the jingle of the door open and in walked Agent Dickerson.

“Hey, Sammy!” the agent said, just before releasing I was there. “Oh, ah shit.”

“Sammy?” I giggled. “That’s your first name?”

Sammy’s face tinted red. “I-I, uh. It’s just Sam.”

I looked up at Dickerson. “So, then what is your first name?”

“It’s-”

“Dean-ie-o,” Sam said, scooting over to let the other agent sit next to him.

Dean-ie-o let out a sarcastic laugh before saying, “The name’s Dean. Sammy boy here is just playing.”

Dean and Sam gave each other a look, both teasingly mad at each other.

“So, what is it exactly that you need me to do?” I asked.

“Well, to start,” Dean said. “The people who died have something to do with that streetlamp, and _your_ house.”

“We need you to stay out of the house tonight. This includes Jon - he can’t be there either. We also need access to your house,” Sam chimed in.

“How am I supposed to get Jon out of the house? And, second, where the hell are we supposed to go?” I asked. It’s not like Jon would listen to what I had to say. Hi Jon, we need to leave the house tonight so those two agents you don’t like can stay in our house because for some reason our property is causing deaths in this small town. Yes, that sounded like a perfectly sane sentence. “This doesn’t even make sense. I mean, how does our house have anything to do with this? It’s not like the house is growing arms and stabbing people.”

“You’d be surprised,” Dean muttered, just before Sam hit him in the arm.

“Is there something we can do to help? We can get Jon out of the house for you,” Dean offered.

I pondered his offer, thinking it might work out better in the long run. But no, wait. If they somehow got Jon out of the house and somewhere else overnight, then what would happen if he found out? What if he thought I was trying to get him out of the house with the help of the agents so I could cheat on him? I would never do something like that, but he had thought it before. Ugh, I just wanted this to be over. You could never win with Jon.

“No, I’ll handle it,” I said - Sam giving me a look that told me he wasn’t too sure I could. Stupid men, always thinking they could solve all a girls problems… like I had any.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I stood in the kitchen, staring at the tomatoes on the counter I bought at the store. Sam and Dean were nice enough to drive me there so I could get what I needed, and then bring me home. They didn’t go into the store with me though, saying they needed to talk alone in the car. I was glad, as the time to myself allowed me to think.

I was going to make a salad, but now I might just put the food products away and ask Jon if he wanted to go out to dinner. At least then I could get him out of the house, and figure out how to keep him away from there. I told the agents I would leave the door unlocked. They said they would be around, likely down the street awaiting Jon and my exit.

The front door creaked open, and in walked none other than big bad Jon himself. That sounded so stupid, like I was Little Red Riding Hood who didn’t see that the kind old grandma was clearly The Big Bad Wolf. I let out a small laugh. If I’m Red Riding Hood, and Jon is The Wolf, then who is going to be The Huntsman that slices open The Wolf and pulls me out of its stomach? Definitely not that Sammy boy who thinks I need his help. I mean, sure, he had good intentions but it’s not like Jon was going to kill me.

“Jon,” I walked over to him to greet him, a smile plastered on my face. “Hi honey, how was work?”

Jon huffed, “Frustrating, not that _you_ would understand any of it.”

I watched him take off his shoes and hang up his coat before I could even ask him out to dinner.

“He-hey Jon?”

“What?” he spat.

“I uh, I was wondering if we could go to Kiki’s Bar and Grill tonight? Like we used to when we first met,” I smiled fondly at the memory. “When you would pick me up and drive me there. Then we’d order burgers and share a milkshake with two straws… I always loved when you would ki-”

“(Y/n), do you think I’m made of money?”

“Wha-what? No.”

“I put a roof over your head, and go to work all day only to come home for you to tell me that’s not enough?” Jon said, his voice rising in volume with every word.

“No, I didn’t mea-mean it like that!” I began backing into the kitchen, Jon walking after me.

“Meak b*tch. Doing nothing but lying around all day and not even grateful that I work my ass off so you can do so.”

_You’re literally the one who won’t let me get a job._

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Jon!”

And then he hit me.

 

 

Again

 

 

 

And again

 

 

 

And again

 

 

 

 

All the while the sun dipped into the horizon , and I cried on the cold, hard tile floor, being told I was ungrateful and Jon wished he was never tied to me.

 

 

_That’s funny._

 

 

 

_He’s not even my husband._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback is always welcome! Please feel free to check out my other stories.


	4. Chapter 4

Everything was dark. I could hear a beeping… just playing the same tune over and over. I thought my alarm sounded faster than that? My head hurt, like the kind of throbbing hurt where your skin felt like it was pulsing just under the surface. 

My throat hurt too… it was dry, and sore. 

Wait a minute. I can’t move

I tried to open my eyes but it was as though they were glued shut. When I went to lift my hands they were being held down by some invisible force. This was all so strange, and I didn't know what to do.

“Hey! What are you doing here!”

That voice… I know that voice.

“Woah, Jon. This is apart of our investigation. We need to see the extent of her injuries.”

That one sounded familiar too. It was more collected, and not as loud.

“What the hell do her injuries have anything to do with dead people around town?” That must have been Jon’s voice.

“Sir, we need to see her. If you could step away from the door-” Was that Sammy?

“You like her, don’t you? I knew it! Little slut has always had it out for me! All it takes is for some other guy to bat an eye at her and now you’re-”

“Okay, I’ve had enough of this.” This voice was different from the other two. It was more gruff, and deep. 

There was the sound of shuffling, and grunts, before I heard Jon yelling about how Sam was my b*tch and how Jon wasn't about to let whatever was going on go. I heard a door slam, and the creak of a chair.

Then my hand felt warm, like it was being held by someone else.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n). I should have just told you not to handle it, and I would figure out how to get Jon away from the house…” Sam trailed off.

You idiot. I’m not stupid, I knew what I was doing… Jon is just hard to work with.

“Not that you can hear me, but I know what you’ll say about it when you wake up. Dean and I waited to see you and Jon walk out of the house. But once we saw Jon go in, and not come out for a while, we thought we would go check on you. Dean was getting impatient anyway. When we approached the door, we could see you through the window, just lying on the ground. There was a halo of blood around your head, and Jon was sitting on the couch. I told Dean to call 911, and once they arrived they stormed into your house. They were able to get you to the hospital, and that’s when we showed up… So now I’m here… This is so stupid, you can’t even hear me.”

“I-I… I can hear yo- you,” I said, my voice shaky and weak. I was all of a sudden able to open my eyes, but when I did so, everything was so bright I still couldn’t see.

“(Y/n)!” Sam said, his voice picking up in pitch.

I turned my head toward his voice, the movement sending a shockwave of pain down my back.

“H-Hi, Sam.”

“How are you feeling?”

I let out a breathy laugh. “Like everything is broken.”

My eyes began to adjust to the world around me. I realised I was in a hospital bed, with Sam sitting in a chair next to me. The room was small, but at least there was a window to my left with a beautiful view of the nightime city.

“The doctor says you have bruised ribs, and it looks as though your head was slammed into the ground… You’re cheek is bruised too.”

“... I’m okay,” I said, trying to convince myself more than him. I don’t even really know what I did to deserve this. Yes, I shouldn't of asked Jon for what I did, but jeez, the broken glass from the other night usually warranted less than this. What did I do so wrong that Jon put me in here?

 

Sam gave me a look that said no, you’re really not.

“Where is Jon?” I asked.

“Dean took him outside. I wanted a minute with you, and Jon wouldn't let us through.”

“Oh… Hey Sam?”

“Yeah?” I felt my hand squeezed just a little tighter.

“Can you ge-get me some water, ple-please? My throat is really dry.”

“Sure thing, I’ll be right back,” Sam said, proceeding to stand up and reluctantly let go of my hand. I watched him walk out of the room, closing the door behind him.

And then there was one.

I lied on that bed in silence, turning my head to stare out of the window with a beautiful view. 

It was then that I heard a tapping on the rectangular window of the hospital room’s door. I turned my head toward the sound, wincing while doing so. In the window of the door was one of the hospital’s nurses. Her eyes were glazed over, and her tapping movements appeared to be almost zombie-like. She was staring right at me - the same stare as Ms.Hobbs and Doug. The lights suddenly flickered, and when they regained steady power, I realised the woman was gone. Where she went, I did not know. But Sammy boy was in her place, opening the door with a bottle of water in his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback is always appreciated. It would also be awesome of you to check out my other stories.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for choosing to read the next chapter! The one fallowing this will be much more action packed.

“Sa-Sam!” I called, my voice hoarse and dry.

 

“Don’t speak, you’ll hurt yourself,” Sam said, helping me into a sitting position. He unscrewed the lid of the plastic bottle and raised it to my lips. 

 

I felt the cool liquid slide down my throat, easing the desert it had become. When Sam brought the bottle down from my lips, I quickly took hold of his hand.

 

“The nurse! She looked just like Doug an-and Ms.Hobbs! She was right there!” I shot my hand out and pointed to the small window in the door. I immediately regretted my decision as I felt a spike of pain shoot up through my arm, causing me to wince.

 

“What? What are you talking about?” Sammy asked, his forehead creased in worry.

 

“She was just staring!” I lowered my hand back down to the bed. “She was tapping on the window with dead eyes and looking right at me!”

 

“Okay, (Y/n), I’m gonna need you to slow down. Who was tapping on the window?”

 

“I-I don’t know! She looked like a nurse! She had dark olive skin, an-and black curly hair!”

 

“What was she wearing?”

 

“I don’t know. It’s not like I have the best view of people passing by from here!”

 

“Uh, okay. What was - uh - did she look angry at all?”

 

“No… no, she was almost sad.”

 

“Okay - uh - okay,” Sam quickly stood up, just before pressing the water bottle into my hands. “I’m gonna go see if I can find her.”

 

And with that, Sam was gone again, leaving me alone.

 

I was left alone to think, and think is what I did. Why, of all places, did those three people appear outside a window  _ I  _ was near? Why did all of them stare directly at me? And why did all of them look so sad, broken, and dazed?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sam did find the woman, but she was already dead in one of the hospital’s storage rooms. He had called the authorities and they took over from there.

Morning was here and so was Jon. He sat in the same chair Sam previously sat in.

 

“I still don’t understand why they fucking called the cops. You were fine,” Jon grumbled. 

_ I was bleeding out, but whatever. _

 

“I know… I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Yeah, you should be… Stupid woman, always causing me trouble.”

 

I felt my eyes begin to sting and my throat close up.

 

_ I know, you’ve told me a thousand times… And now I'm in here taking up your time, and this medical bill is probably going to be really high. And I don’t have a job so it all falls on you to pay it. If I just haden’t gotten involved with those stupid agents then they never would have called 911 and I woulden’t be here. And I would still be at home, and you wouldn't be inconvenienced, because I know your job is stressful and that’s why you hurt me sometimes. But it’s okay, because that’s why im here - to be your stress relief. And even though I know I’m not tied to you because we’re just dating, I would never leave you because I know you love me and no one else will because you’ve gotten that idea into my head and-  _

 

My mind was going down a spiral, and I felt a tear slip from under my tightly closed eyes.  __

 

“What are you crying about?” Jon muttered.

 

“... I-I… I’m so sorry that you ha-have to put up with me… Yo-you deserve s-so much better,” I cried, my eyes now open and I was trying really hard to keep my voice down.

 

Jon sat in silence for a few moments before reaching for my hand. I flinched when he first laid his hand attop mine, but soon relaxed into the touch when I realised he meant me no harm.

 

“You’re not wrong, I do deserve better,” Jon said, causing another tear to slide down my bruised cheeks and a small whimper to escape my lips. “But I also love you.”

 

“...I-I love you t-too, Jon.”

 

He raised his hand that was not holding mine to cup my face. I leaned into him and kissed his palm. I closed my eyes again, only to feel dry lips press themselves against the skin of my forehead. 

 

“I’m gonna go to work, but I’ll be back,” Jon explained, his touch suddenly gone. 

 

“Okay… have a good day, Honey.”

 

With that, Jon walked out the door to the room, and alone I was left again. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Jon did not come back, like he said he was going to. However, Sam and Dean did. They came to visit me around noon, asking me questions and coming to the conclusion that these deaths were not connected to my house so much as they were connected directly to me. 

 

“It is almost like something is possessing these people for something, but each time they don’t complete their task the entity, or whatever it is, kills them,” Sam chimed, sitting in the same chair as the night before. 

 

“What? Where did you get the idea that they’re being possessed to carry out a task?” Dean questioned.

 

“Hold on a second. Entity? Like a ghost?” I asked. 

 

“You haven’t told her yet, have you?” Dean had his arms crossed and was standing at the foot of my bed. 

 

Sam rubbed the back of his head, his shaggy hair getting a nervous brushing from his large hand.

 

“I uh, hadn't gotten around to it yet,” Sammy explained. 

 

“Tell me what?”

 

Sammy boy hesitated, “Dean and I aren't federal agents, (Y/n)... we uh… we-”

 

“Save people, hunt things - the family business,” Dean chimed in.

 

“That literally explained nothing,” I said. 

 

“We’re Hunters. We go after ghosts, werewolves, demons - heck, even angles.”

 

“Angles?”

 

“Angels are dicks!” Dean very enthusiastically stated.

 

“We hunt down the paranormal to keep people from getting hurt or killed,” Sam finally spat out.

 

I laughed, “You guys are funny.”

 

“I’ve been to Hell,” Dean just casually said, as though he just mentioned he stopped by a convenience store on the way here.

 

“Please tell me you’re joking?” I pleaded, confusion likely written on my face.

 

“Unfortunately, sweetheart, we’re not,” Dean said.

 

_ These people are crazy! First they impersonale FBI agents and then they’re talking about how fictional creatures are real. A nurse must have slipped some drugs into my IV bag or something.  _

 

“But, uh, back to what I was saying. I think they’re being possessed for a task because they only appear during a set time, and each appeared to have been after (Y/n) somehow,” Sam said.

 

“After me? None of those people came up to me or anything. They all just kinda… stared.”

 

“But you see, that’s the thing. They can’t open doors or anything like that because they have to be invited in. And only one person can invite them in, and that’s you.”

 

“Me? How do I have anything to do with this?”

 

“We don’t know for sure,” Dean said. “But we do know that all of them came to see you before they died.”

 

“So… did I piss off some witch or something? Is a ghost out to assassinate me?” I half joked.

 

“No, I don’t think so,” Sammy crossed his arms and looked as though he was thinking hard. “They aren’t aggressive, or at least not yet…. Wait a minute.”

 

“What?” Dean and I both said at the same time.

 

“(Y/n), what if tonight, you let in whoever is at the door? What if we see just what this posesser wants?” 

 

“I’m gonna be back home tonight. The doctors said they were getting ready to clear me.”

 

“Perfect!” Dean said. “Sammy and I won’t be too far from your house. We’ll be right there if you need us.”

 

Both boys then stood up. 

 

“Okay then, it’s a date,” I teased.

 

They both smiled, before Dean spotted Jon making his way down the hall, and told Sam it was time to leave. 

 

They both took their exit, and I was left in the lion's den.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made it to the end again! Yay! Feedback is always appreciated, and feel free to make a request if you have one. Also, check out my other stories cuz if you like this one, then you'll likely enjoy the others too. Thank you so much for choosing to read!


	6. Chapter 6

I was nervous for tonight. What if whoever was at the door wanted to kill me? What if I got in trouble with Jon for opening the door? What if I did something wrong?

Thoughts were running through my head as I sat on the couch of Jon and my home. The doctors had released me a couple of hours ago. The sun was beginning to go down as we approached seven in the evening. The wind outside howled and that one stupid tree that leans against the house kept freaking me out when a branch would tap the window. I was still sore, and couldn’t walk very fast, but I was well enough to be home at least. 

I could see Sam and Dean’s car from outside my window. It was parked across the street with both boys sitting inside. 

Just looking out there made me more anxious. What if they really weren’t crazy and there was some spirit out to get me or something? This whole ordeal was giving me the creeps. 

Jon was already asleep upstairs. He had picked me up from the hospital and as soon as we got home, went straight to bed. I could faintly hear him snoring over the sound of all that wind.

Time seemed to pass slow, and I felt as though I was waiting on that couch for hours for something to happen. 

I waited…

 

 

And waited….

 

And waited……

 

And then I saw someone walking on the sidewalk right in front of my house, in that same zombie like state. 

I squinted my eyes in a childish attempt to make out more details of the person. When I realized that all I was doing was putting on a weird face, I moved to the window. 

Mrs.Fraulin!

That’s Mrs.Fraulin, the lady who lives right next door to us. She has called the police on us a couple of times when she could hear Jon beating me. Jon never got arrested, of course, but she always seemed to be concerned about us. 

She walked right up to the front door, and I noticed she didn’t cross the street to get here like the other two people would of had to. 

I slowly made my way over to the front door, my heart pounding in my chest. I looked through the peephole to see her. She was a middle aged lady, with wavy blond hair that was beginning to grey. She had bags under her eyes from work related stress, and her pale skin really was looking ghostly. 

I cracked open the door, shielding the entrance with my body.

“Hi, Mrs.Fraulein… How Can I help you?” I asked, as my hands shook at my sides. 

She just stared blankly at me, before reaching her hand out.

I flinched, just before her hand made contact with my face, and gently pinched my cheek.

This isn’t weird.

I opened the door wider.

“Would you like to come in?”

I could tell she did, because she zombied right through the door.

“Okay, then…” I muttered to myself, sparing one last glance at the black, Chevy Impala before closing the front door. 

“Where’s he?” Mrs.Fraulein asked, her voice devoid of all emotion as her words slurred. 

“Where is who?” Confusion swept over me.

“Where’s he?” She repeated, before making her way further into my house.

I hope she isn’t just drunk.

I followed her, and watched as she opened every door in search of… he? She was looking for someone. 

This is weird, why am I not stopping her?

Cuz Sam and Dean told you to let her do what she wants, dummy. 

I became extremely nervous when she opened the door to Jon’s room. The last thing I needed was for him to have an outburst in front of her. 

I took hold of her shoulder and begged her to come back to the living room with me.

“Come in, Mrs.Fraulin. Let’s go back. Jon is sleeping right now.”

But she didn’t care, she broke free of my grip and began moving into the room. Her eyes locked onto Jon, and she began picking up pace towed him.

“Please,” I whispered. “Come back with me.”

“Found him,” Mrs.Fraulin hissed, before out stretching her arms and lunging for Jon.

“No!” I shouted, attempting to pry the lady off of Jon’s sleeping form.

Jon stirred when hands made contact with him, and his immediate reaction was to shove Mrs.Frauline back and onto the floor. He then sprung out of bed and surveyed the room.

“What the fuck is going on?” Jon growled, his fingers balling into fists.

I could feel my legs grow week, and those bruises from earlier ach more intensely than before. 

Mrs.Frauline got back up again, but her eyes began to glow a light red. 

“You did this,” she said to Jon, her voice still as monotone as it was when I first let her in. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jon turned toward me. “What the fuck is she talking about? Why did you let her in?”

Mrs.Frauline smiled, “I’m gonna punish you for what you did.”

“Look, bitch, you need to get out of my house right now before things get ugly, understand?”

I walked to Mrs.Frauline and took hold of her arm. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

Mrs.Frauline looked at me, her eyebrows creasing in confusion. “This is for you.”

For me? What’s for me?

Mrs.Frauline then lunged at Jon, breaking free of my grip and clawing at Jon’s face with her recently manicured nails. I screamed as I saw blood drip from Jon’s face, his screams and attempts to pry the crazy lady off him proved futile. 

I didn’t know what to do. I just stood there and watched.

Then I remembered, Sam and Dean!

I quickly ran out of the room, down the hallway, through the living room and tripped out the door. I saw Sam and Dean exiting their car and already making their way up to the house.

“Sam!” I called, panicking. “Sammy!”

“What? What’s wrong?” Sam asked, jogging over to me.

I quickly took his hand and dragged him inside, back through the house and into Jon’s -and mine but it’s really his - room. Dean followed close behind us.

The brothers were immediately on top of Mrs.Frauline, attempting to pry off her open hands from Jon’s throat. 

I screamed when I saw blood spurt out of Jon’s neck, his gurgling screams echoing in my ears. 

Dean was able to restrain Mrs.Frauline, all the while Sam began saying some words in a language I assumed to be Latin. 

I quickly darted over to Jon, pressing my hands against his neck. He was withering on the ground, frightened - an emotion I had never seen from him. 

“J-Jon! Jon! Stay with me, please!” I called, my hands bloody and voice wavering.

Jon was lying on the floor and his eyes looked up and into mine. He raised his hand up to my hand, blood coating my cheek - whose blood it was, I had no idea. 

“I’m, I-I’m sorry! Jon! I’m sorry! Please stay with me! Jon!”

Mrs.Frauline dropped to the floor, her eyes no longer glowing red. Sam and Dean then began to focus on me.

Jon opens his mouth, mis breathing uneven and blood bubbling out of his mouth and nose. “Y-..you...B-...Bi-...Bitch,” Jon spat.

I quickly looked up to Sam and Dean.

“What are you doing? Call 911!” I screamed.

When I looked back at Jon, his eyes were glasses over and his body was limp. 

“No… no ...No, No, No! Jon! I’m sorry! I-I… Jon!” I began to gently shake him, and only then did I notice that my vision was blurry with tears for a while now. 

I felt Sam kneel down beside me.

“(Y/n)... I… I think he’s gone,” Sam whispered.

I turned around and pushed Sam off of me with my crimson stained hands. 

“No! He ca-can’t be!” I screamed. Pulling Jon’s heavy body against mine and burying my head in his chest. 

Yes, he hurt me but he was all I had.

Dean had to pry me off of Jon, seeing as Sam didn’t have the heart to. 

I have no one else… I deserved nothing else… I did this… oh my God… I DID THIS!

I shook as I sobbed, Dean pulling me into his chest. 

Sam turned his head when he saw police lights off in the distance. 

“We need to get out of here, now,” Sammy said to Dean. 

I was quickly picked up by Sam, my own body limp in his arms and I went numb. Dean and Sam quickly filed out of the house and I was placed in the back seat of the impala. Sam and Dean got in, and Dean drove us out of the neighborhood.

Sam turned around in his seat to face me. “Everything is going to be okay, (Y/n)... I promise everything will be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made it through another chapter! Yay! The next chapter will be posted next Thursday. Feedback is always appreciated, as are requests. Thank you!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that this got posted so late in the day, but it's here now! I hope you enjoy!

We drove for who knows how long, but enough that I became tired and had fallen asleep. When I awoke, daylight streamed through the windows of the back seat. I lifted myself off of the seat and sat upright. Sam was asleep in the front passenger seat, his head tilted to the side and his chest rising and falling ever so slowly. I turned my gaze to the rearview mirror, and could see Dean’s tired eyes. 

“Where are we going?” I whispered, trying not to wake Sam. 

Dean glanced in the rearview mirror and saw I was awake.

“Someplace safe,” Dean said, not answering my question at all.

I opted not to ask any more questions, seeing as Dean appeared agitated and I was not getting a straight answer out of him. 

I stared out the window of the impala, watching trees pass and cars drive by. The morning sun peeking out over the horizon, and reminded me of the feeling of dried tears on my cheeks that still lingered from last night. 

As we drove in silence for what felt like forever, I noticed a sign that read Welcome to Kansas! 

“Why are we in Kansas?” I asked. 

Where they kidnapping me? What was going on? Would I ever return to my small town? Would I ever face the consequences of my actions? I still didn’t understand what happened with the possessions. Why would our next door neigbhor murder Jon? 

I was such a fool for letting her inside in the first place.

I never got an answer from Dean, but Sam soon woke up once we began to take a sideroad into the woods.

This is where is ends for me… Now these two are gonna kill me because of what I did to Jon… 

Sam turned around in his seat, sleep still written on his face.

“Morning, (Y/n),” Sam said.

“Morning,” I squeaked out. “Sam, do you know where we are going?”

“We are going home,” Sam said.

“Great. Thanks for the detailed input,” I spat, rolling my eyes in the process. 

Sam let out a breathy laugh, “We’re going to the Men of Letters Bunker… You need to lay low for a while, and Dean and I need to sort some things out.”

The impala pulled into the dirt driveway of this GIANT complex. It almost looked like an insane asylum. 

Right where these people belong… 

Then something hit me. 

“Wait a minute, you two said you were brothers?”

Sam nodded his head as Dean parked the car.

“Then why do you have two diffrent last names?”

Sam smiled, “Our real last name is Winchester…like the gun.”

“Sam and Dean Winchester,” I tried out the names. “Sounds way better than Dickerson and Ross,” I laughed.

The brothers got out of the car and I followed behind them. They led me inside the bunker, and oh my damn, it was huge! It was beautiful too, the outside having done no justice for what was really inside.

We made our way down the stairs that led from the front entrance to what looked to be… a map room? There was a giant table in the center with a map on it. Beyond that was an arch way that led to what appeared to be a library with several tables lined up in the center. 

“Why did you bring me here? You could have left me back at the house…” I asked.

Sam shared a look with Dean. Dean shrugged at him and said, “You chose this. You explain,” before wandering off farther into the bunker.

Sam then turned and looked at me, his lips pressed together and his eyes creased in a manner that told me he didn’t know what to say.

“How about you start with what all that was back at the house,” I stated.

Sam paused, before telling me to come sit down at the table. 

I did as was told, Sammy boy sitting across from me. 

“...All those people, (Y/n), you knew them?”

“Yeah.”

“How much did they know about you?” 

I creased my eyebrows, “I… I actually don’t know… Jon never really let me get too close to anyone.”

“They knew you were together with Jon, and they knew he beat you-”

“He loved me,” I interrupted.

“But he still hurt you, nevertheless… Well, those people who knew that, all felt strong resentment toward Jon. They couldn't do anything about it, but they wanted to help you,” Sammy’s eyes softened. “They felt so strongly about it that they were possessed by someone very close to you who felt the same. Or at least someone who was.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t have any family in that town.”

“Did you ever tell any of your family members about what Jon did to you? Did you ever vent to them?”

“I-I… I did tell my sister some stuff on occasion, but I never told her anything big that happened.”

“... (Y/n), is your sister still alive?”

I paused, the air sucked out of me. I had been trying really hard to block out the fact that my sister was dead. She died in a car crash on her way home after having visited Jon and I for christmas. She lived in a dorm at the university back home, and she brought all her valuables with her for fear of them being stolen - not that she had very much to begin with. Everything in that car burned to ash, I causing my sister… Well, all except for a charred silver locket that the police ended up returning to me. I still wear it around my neck.

“...No… She died last December.” I said, my eyes downcast.

“Do you have anything of hers? Did she leave anything behind?”

I hesitated, “... her locket.” I pointed to the one I was wearing. “It’s all I have left of her.”

Sam began to look conflicted, “(Y/n), I’m gonna need your locket.”

I began to slowly shake my head. “Why would you need my locket?”

“A spirit can attach itself to three things. It’s body, another person, and an object. The longer the ghost stays here, the more likely they are to go crazy and hurt people… the only way to get rid of them is to salt and burn whatever the ghost was attached to,” Sam stared. Glancing from my locket to me.

I shakily reached my hand up to my locket, grasping it firmly. “No,” I said. “It’s all I have left… First I lost my family because of Jon, then I lost my sister, and now the only other person in this damn world who would ever stoop so low as to love me. And you want me to give up the only thing I have after all of this? I can’t even get back home. I have no money and no car or anything. Jon never let me drive so I haven’t driven in a long time… Dammit Sam, I have no control over my own life anymore!”

Sam pursed his lips and his eyes softened. “Don’t worry about it right now… Come on let’s get you set up in a guest room.”

I followed the giraffe of a man down several twists and turns, until we reached a room barren of anything except for a dresser and a bed. There was a connected bathroom, consisting of a sink, toilet, and shower. It was a nice room, no matter how little there was in it.

“You can stay here. Dean and I aren’t too far away. Just a couple of rooms down. If you need anything, just come find us. For now, we’ll be in the library,” Sam then quickly made his exit. 

I looked around the room, unsure of what to do with myself. I decided that taking a shower would be nice, so I discarded all my clothes and began running water for the shower. 

There was a long mirror on the back of the bathroom door that I only noticed when I closed it. I took a long look at myself. 

I had never been comfortable with the way I look. There was always something that I wish I could change. After a while of being together with Jon, my idea of my body image only got worse. He always told me I wasn’t like other girls, and not because I was special or anything, but because of how ugly he thought I was. It didn’t bug me at first, but after a while of enduring his comments, it starts to take a toll on a person. 

And of course, seeing blue, purple, and green bruises all over didn’t help me at all. Especially the ones around my ribs. 

Oh look, those are new…

I decided I would stop wasting water, seeing as it was likely warm by now. I stepped inside the shower, closing the curtain behind me. I let the water cascade down my head, falling down my back and making its way to the drain.

After washing myself, I turned the water off and stepped out, looking for a towel under the sink. I found a nice and fluffy white one, and proceed to wrap it around my body before making my way back to the bedroom. I sat on the bed for a while, closing my eyes and releshing in the fact that everything was calm for a moment. The storm was over for now… 

I stood up and dropped the towel, dressing myself in the clothes I came in, seeing as I had nothing else to wear. But as I began looking around, I realised my locket was gone. 

I began to panic, looking under the bed, in the sheets. I retraced my steps, walking back into the bathroom. I found nothing. I left the guest room and walked down the hallway that led to the map room. I found nothing. I could feel my hands start to shake.

Then I saw Sam and Dean sitting in the library. 

“Where,” I began, glaring at the two boys, “is my locket?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a comment or request. I would also appreciate if if you would check out my other stories.


	8. Chapter 8

Both Sam and Dean stared at me like I had two heads. Then Sam’s eyes went wide and he looked to Dean.

 

“What did you do?” Sam asked.

 

“I didn’t do anything,” Dean scoffed at Sam 

 

“Well, SOMEONE took my locket, because I looked everywhere and I CAN’T find it!” I yelled. 

 

“Look, (Y/n), that locket wasn’t doing you any good,” Dean stated, turning his attention back to me. “Sam  _ did  _ explain to you that it was possessed.”

 

“... Dean, what did you do with my locket?” I asked one last time.

 

“...” Dean sighed, “I melted it down to nothing. Took it when you were in the shower.”

 

“Dean!” Sam yelled. “What the hell? You didn’t even tell me!”

 

I just stared at the two boys, feeling that stupid dam in the back of my eyes begin to break. 

 

They bickered back and forth, so I took my leave.

 

I wandered back to my room, closed the door, sat on the bed, and started at the floor.

 

I felt the tears build in my eyes until they spilled over, creating trails down my cheeks as they race each other to the floor. I sniffed and curled in on myself, falling onto my side and laying on the bed. I covered my mouth with a hand, as an attempt to muffle my sobbs. I trembled as my thoughts went ninety-miles an hour… until the thoughts stopped, and I felt numb.

  
  
  
  


I don’t know how much time passed, but there came a soft knock on the door. 

 

I didn’t say anything, and the knock came again.

 

“(Y/n), can I come in?”

 

The voice belonged to Sammy.

 

 I didn’t respond.

 

“... (Y/n)... I’m coming in, okay?”

 

The door slowly creaked open, and the boy walked in. He closed the door behind him, and made his way to my side.

 

I looked up at him through teary eyes, my bottom lip quivering. 

 

Sam sat on the edge of the bed by my feet, taking his hand and placing it atop mine.

 

“... I’m sorry… about the locket…” He said, his eyes downcast.

 

I looked from him to the floor, another round of tears making their way to the surface. “... I-I… I want things to go back t-to they way they we-were.”

 

“I know… But unfortunately, that can’t happen…”

 

Sam’s thumb was gently rubbing the top of my hand.

 

I sat up and rubbed my eyes, trying to wipe the tears away.

 

“... (Y/n)... How about we go do something? Do you wanna go get food? I know I’m hungry.”

 

I sniffed only last time, bringing my glossy eyes up to meet Sam’s. 

 

“Sure,” I said, attempting a smile.

  
  
  


Sam and I walked all the way to some fast food place that wasn’t  _ too  _ far from the bunker. On the way there, we talked about everything from how the Winchester brothers began hunting, to the first time I met Jon.

  
  


“He was dreamy,” I said, as we came across the fast food joint. “Jon was very kind to me, and quite the flirt.”

 

“... So what changed?” Sam asked.

 

I lost my smile. “I really don’t know… I had a lot of freedom at first, but Jon slowly stripped it away from me right under my nose. Now, he loved me, but I think he was a bit overly protective…”

 

“I see,” Sam said. 

 

The garaff of a man opened the door to the place, and we both walked in.

 

We stood in line, staring at the menu that was hanging above the counter.

 

“Do you know what you want?” Sam asked.

 

I read over the names of the items, almost all of them appearing to be burgers. “The BLT sounds nice.”

 

“What size fries do you want?”

 

“Oh, you don’t have to make it a cambo.”

 

“But I want to,” Sammy smiled down at me.

 

“A small would be nice.”

 

We reached the counter, where Sammy said he wanted the vegan wrap with a side of dried kale. He also placed an order for Dean, consisting of a burger that held enough meat to make a true carnivore’s mouth water. When the lady behind the counter asked what I wanted, Sam ordered for me before I could even get the words out of my mouth. 

 

“And what size fries would you like?” she asked.

 

“Sma-”

 

“Large. She’ll take a large,” Sam stated.

 

I smiled up at him, “You goof.”

  
  


The walk back to the bunker was really pleasant, Sam and I having shared several laughs. 

 

When we got inside, Dean appeared from out of nowhere. “I smell food!”

 

Sam took us into the library, setting out all the food items on the table and distributing them accordingly.

 

“Wha-what is this? I don’t see any pie,” Dean said.

 

“We didn’t stop for pie, there was no where close to go get it.” Sam sat down and began taking bites out of his wrap.

 

“Shoulda gotten some damn pie,” the older Winchester muttered under his breath.

 

I felt my hands shake, and a knot form in the pit of my stomach.

 

_ This is stupid. He’s not mad at you… you didn’t do anything wrong…. But you should have thought about asking him what he wanted before you left. You should know to do that or else you know what happens. Stupid girl, only ever thinking of yourse- _

 

“You okay?”

 

I looked up and realised I was the only one not eating. “Um, yeah. I’m fine.”

 

I unwrapped the burger and began eating, snacking on fries every once in a while.

 

_ … I hope that I’m wrong… I hope that neither of them are like Jon… _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You did it again! You made it through one more chapter! The next chapter should be posted on Thursday, but I am letting you know that because of school starting, I may not be able to update as frequently as I have been. However, thank you very much for choosing to read this story. It would be awesome of you to leave feedback and/or check out my other works. Thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! More chapters are on their way soon! Please give me feedback or request a story you would like me to write for you. :)


End file.
